Chapter 2: Not Human
Iris's footsteps echoed along the stuffy second-floor dormitory hallway. The air inside the building felt heavy, laden with medieval dust and the scent of melting beeswax. At the end of the dim corridor, a wooden door with peeling carved paint awaited her. Room 204.
The moment she pushed the door open, a girl with messy brown hair and wide, startled eyes greeted her with a paranoid stare. Clara.
"You... you're the new student who arrived by taxi earlier?" Clara's voice trembled violently, almost a whisper, as she rose from the edge of her rickety wooden bed. "You're insane. Why would you come to this cursed place?"
Iris closed the door behind her, frowning as she removed her coat, soaked by the fog. "I came here of my own free will. This place is better than my family's home. Why are you reacting so dramatically? Oh, right. I'm Iris Francesca."
Without warning, Clara lunged forward. Her fingers clamped around Iris's wrist with such sudden force that they left stinging red marks on her pale skin. Clara's breathing came fast and ragged, as though every breath of oxygen in the room were trying to steal her sanity.
"You don't understand!" Clara whispered frantically, her wild eyes scanning the bedroom walls as if thousands of eyes were watching them from behind the peeling wallpaper. "This place is alive, Iris! This building breathes with our blood and fear!"
"Let me go. You're hurting me," Iris protested, trying to pull her hand free, but the girl's grip only tightened, sending a wave of physical terror crawling coldly into Iris's chest.
"Listen to me carefully," Clara hissed, leaning in until her cold breath brushed Iris's cheek. Her voice was thick with a terrible warning. "Never leave the room after midnight. Whatever calls your name out there isn't human... it's something that wants to strip you bare, all the way down to your soul."
Iris stared at the woman's eyes, stunned by the pure fear reflected in them. "What do you mean? Something? Who's wandering around at night?"
"The teachers... the guardians... or whatever they really are," Clara continued, her voice rising into a strangled pitch. "They want more than just our lives. They crawl through our dreams, feel around inside our sanity, until we surrender ourselves willingly."
"You're just paranoid. This is only an old school," Iris argued, even as her throat suddenly went dry and her heart began pounding erratically.
Before Clara could respond, the antique chandelier on the bedroom ceiling began flickering wildly. Flicker... flicker...
"No... not now," Clara squeaked, releasing Iris's hand and backing away in terror.
Click!
The bedroom light went out instantly. Thick darkness swallowed the room in a heartbeat, leaving behind only the faintest yellowish glow from an emergency candle melting on the vanity. The shadows in the corners suddenly stretched longer, dancing like starving monsters.
Iris felt along the edge of the table, her breathing quickening as the atmosphere shifted into something both sensual and terrifying. "The power went out because of the storm outside. That's normal."
"Not the storm..." Clara's voice was barely audible, nearly lost beneath her sobs. She hugged herself in the corner of the bed. "Do you know why I'm still here, Iris? Why you never see me leave through that gate?"
Iris turned toward her, gazing at her roommate's silhouette in the dim candlelight. "Why?"
"Because I'm not a new student," Clara said, her hoarse voice breaking the silence. "I was supposed to graduate last year. I'd packed my suitcase and was holding my train ticket... but on the night before I left, that gate refused to let me through. And he forbade me from taking another step outside."
"He? Who are you talking about?" Iris asked sharply, though the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.
"The overseer..." Clara whispered desperately. "Mr. Zephyr. The man in the black suit who rules every corridor in this place. The moment you look into his eyes, your soul is locked here forever."
Before Iris could respond to the insane confession, the atmosphere suddenly froze. The temperature in the room plummeted, and their breath began to billow white in the air.
Knock... knock... knock...
Slow, heavy knocks filled with authority echoed from directly outside their bedroom door. They were neither hurried nor impatient, but rhythmic, as though whoever was knocking knew exactly how frightened the two girls inside were.
Clara froze in the corner of the bed, covering her mouth with both hands to muffle her sobs. She shook her head frantically as tears spilled down her face.
Iris held her breath, staring at the tightly closed wooden door. The next second, an icy breath forced its way through the narrow gap beneath the door, carrying the fragrance of sandalwood mixed with the sweet stench of death—making Iris's entire body shudder as she realized that whatever was out there was now pressing its lips directly against the other side of their bedroom door.